I moved among the guests, refilling plastic cups and gathering used paper plates.

Daniel poured drinks and told stories about his firm landing huge new contracts.

At a quarter past three, I walked out the sliding glass door carrying a fresh pitcher of iced tea and a stack of clean cups.

Ava was standing near the top of the deck stairs, blocking the way.

She was typing quickly on her phone.

I paused on the bottom step and waited for her to notice me.

“Excuse me, Ava,” I said.